Mark's Campaign
This website is a place where friends and strangers can browse the ancient and current RPG campaigns that I have created over the past 40 years. Rather than simply shredding my creations from past decades, I will hopefully engrave them in the dubious permanence of the internet. Enjoy the gallery!
If you are following this website, the most recent changes/additions have been highlighted in red text.
Pathfinder RPG Campaigns
My players and I were some of the first new converts from D&D 3.5 to the new Pathfinder RPG (which we called D&D 3.75). For Christmas, my players purchased the Pathfinder Adventure Path subscription for me and shortly after that, we started the Rise of the Runelords adventure path. With our bi-weekly, weeknight playing schedule, the adventures started showing up in the mail for more frequently than we could finish them, so after I while I decided to cancel the subscription and utilize some of the unused Adventure Paths as background and supporting material for my upcoming campaign. When one of my players, Greg decided to transition from his Greyhawk campaign to Pathfinder, I bequeathed the Council of Thieves series to him, which I am enjoying as a player to this day (7/2019).
Return of the Pharaohs
I decided that my next campaign would use the Pathfinder world of Golarion as the setting and be a mostly custom-created campaign arc. I was inspired somewhat by the complex plots and motivations of the popular series, Game of Thrones so I wanted the group to 'unpeel the onion' of their adventures a little at a time. They started off not knowing much about how they came together, but were tempted enough by the payoff of their success to keep going together as a group.
When I create a campaign from scratch like this, I usually start with some background inspiration. At the time we started this campaign, the world of Golarion was not very well fleshed out by Paizo (at least publicly), so I had to spend considerable time creating my own content; maps, NPCs, politics, etc. I also tend to spend a lot of time fleshing out the backgrounds and texture of the regions where the adventurers will be travelling. Once I have a more realistic vision of the people and places, I can more easily create a series of encounters to tell my story. Some of the information below has never been seen by my players so they may find some of it to be 'revealing'.
The current campaign, which began in January 2013, takes a group of adventurers to various locales throughout the Inner Sea region, including Taldor, Andoran, Molthune, Cheliax, Varisia, Osirion, Nidal and the Lands of the Linnorm Kings. The party was 'recruited' to perform quests for a then unknown benefactor. Although their motives may have been mysterious, it can be argued that the payoff has been great! What follows is a listing of the chapters of this campaign and a general summary of the plots, personalities and behind-the-scenes backstories.
Here is the first part of the background for my "Pharaohs" campaign:
In 4609AR, the priest known as Harun of Abadar, who would eventually become known as Khemet I, followed the portents and left Absalom for the far off nation of Osirion, his ancestral homeland, abandoned by his ancient family millennia ago. He had recently been visited by a strange outlander sage who claimed to know his family history and offered him the means to claim rule of his ancestral homeland and usher in a new dynasty of peace and prosperity to Osirion. What Harun did not know is that the sage was actually an emissary of a prince of hell who wanted his finger on the pulse of the far southern nation to use at a later date. Cloaked in double talk and half-promises, Harun unknowingly bound himself to an infernal contract for the period of 1000 years. During that time, he would reign as Pharaoh with a great and powerful presence. Only in his last days did he realize his folly, which would then be passed down to his inheritors – for the rest of the 1000 year contract.
When Khemet II inherited the throne, his father imparted his terrible secret to his son with a heart full of sadness and regret. Khemet II was a different sort of man and relished his power, wealth and fame. He squandered most of his reign in harems and opium dens, using the power of his pact to keep himself comfortable and his country safe. For almost 30 years, his advisors succeeded in keeping the country functioning until he tried unsuccessfully to break his pact by threatening and attacking a summoned emissary from Hell. Pieces of Khemet II were found in the rubble of his former palace grounds. When his son, Khemet III took the throne in 4678AR, nearly 70 years had passed in the original pact. Khemet III was a much more thoughtful man, akin to his grandfather, with aspirations of bringing about a renaissance grandeur to Osirion and acceptance by the world at large. He used his pact-endowed gifts for the greater good of his country and his subjects, but the taint of the pact’s power always permeated his dealings and there were certain things that the Ruby Prince could not get to work how he wanted. In 4712AR Khemet III attempted to use an artifact procured from an ancient Thassilonian treasure hoard to break the pact, but unfortunately the magic interacted with the infernal power and triggered a powerful wasting curse. Khemet blames the Pathfinder society and its agent, Amenopheus, the Sapphire Sage, and sent him into exile.
Khemet is constantly in search for a fabled artifact from the age of Thassilon that will break his infernal pact and free him from his crippling curse. One of the greatest challenges he will set before his proto-champions will be the research and recovery of this item.
Of course, there is a lot more to the background than that!
Chapter 1: Recruitment
The recruitment of the group occurred as individually as the characters themselves, however there were certain elements to the initial meeting that all shared. In Part 1, the characters' personal lives are interrupted by an interesting meeting. It's a little repetitive, but I did copy it verbatim.
Part 1: The Recruits (getting the characters into the campaign)
Tark –
Mother grew up in Vigil, capital of Lastwall. On her way to the fortress town of Castle Firrine, her group was attacked by a raiding band of orcs from the border of Belkzen. After the ordeal, she and her son Tark found a small village between the hills of Hammer Rock and the Northern Fangwood called Longshadow that serves as a waypoint between the logging camps of Fangwood and the military construction sites in Hammer Rock and Vigil.
One of Tark’s favorite things to do is to accompany the lumber captains’ shipments when they leave from Longshadow and go to Hammer Rock. The people of Hammer Rock, unlike those in Vigil, seem to be more accepting of Tark and it is here that he feels most welcome. The local tavern owner, Bart, has sort of taken a liking to the bright young half-orc and will pay him a few silvers here and there in exchange for simple tasks or errands. It is on his most recent visit to Hammer Rock, when he is approached by a fellow half-orc as he sits at the bar.
A broad shouldered half-orc dressed in warm furs, but wearing a chain shirt underneath approaches you with a smile. “Greetings my friend, my I join you for a moment? You are called Tark?” The man motions for the barkeep to bring him an ale, “May I buy your next drink? I have been hearing great things about you, my young friend. I hear that you are smart, strong and willing to accept new challenges. If that is so, I may be able to help point you in the right direction. My name is Banak and I represent a benefactor who has need of people like you and he is willing to pay generously to those who serve him well. I don’t want an answer right now, and I won’t go into the details in this place. But I want you to think about it and accept this.” He hands you a small wooden matchbox with a strange embossed symbol on it that looks like a red gem. “Think carefully about what I have said to you and if you are interested, open the box later and you will find the answers that I know you want to ask me. If you decide that you are not interested in my offer, I would ask that you leave the box with the barkeep here, and I will collect it tomorrow. Thank you for your time, my friend and I hope to see you again!” With that, he abruptly stands, swigs the rest of his drink, gives you a sly grin and walks out the door.
Balen –
One of Balen’s favorite hangouts, when he needs some downtime is a tavern in Korvosa called the Broken Oath. Owned and operated by a fellow half-orc named Ruska, this is one of the few places that Balen can really feel comfortable, accepted or at least left alone without the angry stares. Because Balen has begun to make a small name for himself in this part of the city, most people who are looking for his services will find him here occasionally. One such evening, he has a new visitor.
A middle-aged human with a pronounced limp, dressed in warm clothes, but wearing a ringmail shirt underneath approaches you with a smile. “Greetings my friend, my I join you for a moment? You are called Balen?” The man motions for the barkeep to bring him an ale, “May I buy your next drink? I have been hearing great things about you, my young friend. I hear that you are smart, strong and willing to accept new challenges. If that is so, I may be able to help point you in the right direction. My name is Thorian and I represent a benefactor who has need of people like you and he is willing to pay generously to those who serve him well. I don’t want an answer right now, and I won’t go into the details in this place. But I want you to think about it and accept this.” He hands you a small wooden matchbox with a strange embossed symbol on it that looks like a red gem. “Think carefully about what I have said to you and if you are interested, open the box later and you will find the answers that I know you want to ask me. If you decide that you are not interested in my offer, I would ask that you leave the box with the barkeep here, and I will collect it tomorrow. Thank you for your time, my friend and I hope to see you again!” With that, he abruptly stands, swigs the rest of his drink, gives you a sly grin and walks out the door.
Meridian –
Making the move to Absalom from Andoran seemed like fulfilling a dream. Everyone calls Absalom the Center of the World and therefore anyone who wants to make a name for themselves, wants to find adventure, or in Meridian’s case, wants to find their fortune would do best to start in that famous city. Of course, reality had a different lesson to teach Meridian and he soon found out that fortune did not greet him at the docks with an open hand and invitation. But being a resourceful man, Mer made himself useful, obtaining various odd jobs mainly protecting merchants in their day-to-day affairs or offering minor magical services. In these odd jobs, Mer could keep an eye and ear out for information that would give him the opportunity to break out of this routine and really make a difference for himself and his patron. One evening, while mentally tallying the coins in his possession with a frown, he found himself at one of his favorite local taverns, the Wyvern’s Tail; a lively hangout near the dock ward where the locals come for word abroad and the visitors come for their first good meal and drink after a long voyage. In Mer’s mind; the perfect place to find some direction. Oddly enough, for once, it just came through the door.
A broad shouldered dwarf dressed in warm furs, but wearing a chain shirt underneath approaches you with a smile. “Greetings my friend, my I join you for a moment? You are called Meridian, yes?” The man motions for the barkeep to bring him an ale, “May I buy your next drink? I have been hearing great things about you, my friend. I hear that you are smart, strong and willing to accept new challenges. If that is so, I may be able to help point you in the right direction. My name is Finnan and I represent a benefactor who has need of people like you and he is willing to pay generously to those who serve him well. I don’t want an answer right now, and I won’t go into the details in this place. But I want you to think about it and accept this.” He hands you a small wooden matchbox with a strange embossed symbol on it that looks like a red gem. “Think carefully about what I have said to you and if you are interested, open the box later and you will find the answers that I know you want to ask me. If you decide that you are not interested in my offer, I would ask that you leave the box with the barkeep here, and I will collect it tomorrow. Thank you for your time, my friend and I hope to see you again!” With that, he abruptly stands, swigs the rest of his drink, gives you a sly grin and walks out the door.
Ramos –
Jalmeray is a wondrous place, no doubt about it. But it is also an island and there are only so many places an adventurous person can explore. When Ramos left the Segang Jungle and travelled with his mentor, Grizzwald, the two traveled the length and breadth of the nation, discovering the many unusual plants, animals, landscapes and cultures that this fantastic land had to offer. But Ramos is now at a point in his life where the world outside calls to him and he must see all the diversity that he has heard stories about. Finding himself in the capital of Niswan, Ramos is quickly going through his meager savings, waiting for the opportunity to escape the island nation he has called home. Although cities are not Ramos’ favorite places to stay for very long, the exotic foods, smells and people that pass through the city are mesmerizing. But some of the local animal handlers, stable masters and caravan guides have found that Ramos has a natural way with the animals and pays him periodically to help out. One if his favorite places to visit is an open-air bar called the Flying Carpet, which serves distilled spirits from the local fruits and an open-pit barbeque that is as much a show as a kitchen for the guests. This night, a good sized crowd has gathered and is listening to a tune plucked out on a long-necked tambura.
A thin dusky-skinned man dressed in fine silks and linen, but wearing a scaled shirt underneath approaches you with a smile. “Greetings my young friend, my I join you for a moment? You are called Ramos, yes?” The man motions for the barkeep to bring him a glass of wine, “May I buy your next drink? I have been hearing great things about you, my friend. I hear that you are smart, strong and willing to accept new challenges. If that is so, I may be able to help point you in the right direction. My name is Timo and I represent a benefactor who has need of people like you and he is willing to pay generously to those who serve him well. I don’t want an answer right now, and I won’t go into the details in this place. But I want you to think about it and accept this.” He hands you a small wooden matchbox with a strange embossed symbol on it that looks like a red gem. “Think carefully about what I have said to you and if you are interested, open the box later and you will find the answers that I know you want to ask me. If you decide that you are not interested in my offer, I would ask that you leave the box with the barkeep here, and I will collect it tomorrow. Thank you for your time, my friend and I hope to see you again!” With that, he abruptly stands, swigs the rest of his drink, gives you a sly grin and walks out the door.
Din –
On the north end of Varisia’s Lost Coast, between the town of Roderic’s Cove and the Churlwood Forest, Din has found a perfect spot to harvest the necessary ingredients for his alchemical research. Although Roderic’s Cove has become somewhat of a pirate town since it was taken over by the lords of Riddleport, Din has had no trouble finding buyers for his unusual concoctions. While staying in town, one of Din’s favorite places is the Wailing Whale. A good mix of locals and outlaw sailors can be had on most nights, and this night is no different. As Din is keeping a wary eye over his drink in his usual dark corner, a man approaches his table.
A thick man with an enormously bushy beard and clean shaved head, dressed in warm furs, but wearing a chain shirt underneath approaches you with a smile. “Greetings my young friend, may I join you for a moment? You are called Din, yes?” The man motions for the barkeep to bring him an ale, “May I buy your next drink? I have been hearing great things about you, my friend. I hear that you are smart, strong and willing to accept new challenges. If that is so, I may be able to help point you in the right direction. My name is Reezus and I represent a benefactor who has need of people like you and he is willing to pay generously to those who serve him well. I don’t want an answer right now, and I won’t go into the details in this place. But I want you to think about it and accept this.” He hands you a small wooden matchbox with a strange embossed symbol on it that looks like a red gem. “Think carefully about what I have said to you and if you are interested, open the box later and you will find the answers that I know you want to ask me. If you decide that you are not interested in my offer, I would ask that you leave the box with the barkeep here, and I will collect it tomorrow. Thank you for your time, my friend and I hope to see you again!” With that, he abruptly stands, swigs the rest of his drink, gives you a sly grin and walks out the door.
Roga –
After the commotion dies down and you have recounted the fight for the hundredth time for both the locals and the officials, you are able to finally relax and enjoy your evening. From what you can tell, no one knows how that demon got into the city and nothing like that has happened before, but it is possible that there may be a conjurer in disguise somewhere. Nevertheless, you have become popular, trusted and a glimmer of hope in these people’s otherwise hopeless days. Late in the evening, as you are thinking about heading to your rack in the barracks, you are approached by a stranger.
A middle-aged human with a pronounced limp, dressed in warm clothes, but wearing a ringmail shirt underneath approaches you with a smile. “Greetings my friend, my I join you for a moment? You are called Roga?” The man motions for the barkeep to bring him an ale, “May I buy your next drink? I have been hearing great things about you, my young friend. I hear that you are smart, strong and willing to accept new challenges. If that is so, I may be able to help point you in the right direction. My name is Urfan and I represent a benefactor who has need of people like you and he is willing to pay generously to those who serve him well. I don’t want an answer right now, and I won’t go into the details in this place. But I want you to think about it and accept this.” He hands you a small wooden matchbox with a strange embossed symbol on it that looks like a red gem. “Think carefully about what I have said to you and if you are interested, open the box later and you will find the answers that I know you want to ask me. If you decide that you are not interested in my offer, I would ask that you leave the box with the barkeep here, and I will collect it tomorrow. Thank you for your time, my friend and I hope to see you again!” With that, he abruptly stands, swigs the rest of his drink, gives you a sly grin and walks out the door.
When the character opens the box, inside they find a single gold coin with a gem on one side and a beetle on the other side (DC10 Knowledge Nobility or Geography to know that the symbol of the scarab is from Osirion, but the gem is unknown). At this point, they need to roll a fort save vs DC25 otherwise they will fall asleep from a contact poison on the coin within 10 minutes.
If the character returns the box to the barkeep, that night, the character will be awoken briefly by a bug bite, but will then fall back to sleep from the small poisoned dart that was shot into their neck. (DC25 Fort save)